Regularly Insane
by GearSolidSnake
Summary: "Sometimes it's nice being down the rabbit hole." I wish I could get him to see what we see. I wish he would understand. Every day, I hope Mordecai will finally leave the confines of his mind and come back to reality. (My take on the "Regular Show Theory")


Each day like the one before has been unbearable. Night after night, I lie awake wondering what it must be like: that wonderful place he keeps imagining. I can only gaze at it from afar. An outside looking into the depths of the unknown: that is what I have become.

Every day spent down these hallowed halls fills me with the dread of failure. I know I will hit a breakthrough! I have to! Yet these white walls lament the grave irony of their color. White, after all, is calm, cool and collective. White, which adorns every crawlspace, is supposed to be calm and relaxing.

If only these walls were alive. Then they would understand the hypocrisy that dwells within them.

Each morning is just as hopeful as the last. I hope something good will come today. But reality continues to mock me.

I step through those doors, unaware of what's ahead.

"_Cohen's Home for the Criminally Insane and Mentally Incurable._" That is where I work. I should be at John Hopkins right now. I'm astute for my age, regardless of my stature. But I feel like I'm the only one who can cure him.

"Doctor Rigby," a female nurse says to me, "Are you ready to see him again?"

I fix my tie before replying, "Now's about as good of a time as ever."

I follow her down to _his_ room, hoping and praying he is alright. That something good has come of it.

I open the door to room "_116_" to be surly mistaken.

On the bed is my best and only true friend, Mordecai. "Hey Rigby!" he says cheerfully.

I grimly smile back, "Hey Mordecai."

His room has been outfitted for the comforts of his mind. His spacious room contains a large bed with a trampoline on the other end. I don't understand the significance of it. I just hope one day he will come to see what's right in front of him.

He looks at the clock near his bed, "Oh jeez! Come on, we'll be late for work! Benson will yell at us again!"

"Yeah, yeah he will," I reply.

Suddenly, the door opens to reveal our Systems Administrator, Benson. Right on time. Please don't blow this off again.

"Morning Benson."

"Mordecai, Rigby," he says plainly. He is followed by some of the other workers at the facility: the obese Mitch, who has been dubbed as "Muscle Man;" the massive doctor, whose nickname we now commonly refer to as "Skips," even outside of Mordecai's fantasy; one of the older, more friendly doctors who always greets with candy, who was appropriately named "Pops;" a frail, thin man named Steve who is dubbed as "High Five Ghost;" and the newer intern, Thomas.

We have each been given a role to play in his fantasy. Apparently, I am still the weak, little raccoon. Why he picked a blue jay for himself, I have no idea.

Benson coughs, "So, uh, I need you two slackers to, uh, mow the grass today."

Mordecai groaned from atop his small bed. I groaned with him. I know this isn't real, but sometimes I just can't help but play along.

"The rest of you need to work around the park."

Mordecai was greeted by the others. Of course, Steve greets Mordecai with a high-five. It's obvious what his role is named after.

Benson pulls me over to the side, "I don't really think we should keep doing this."

I get angrier, "Look, you need to stop phoning it in! I really think I can reach a breakthrough! My studies have shown that patients who are further enveloped in their delusions will begin to recognize reality."

"I mean you shouldn't be doing this. Rigby, I know Mordecai was your friend. But his accident changes everything. Christ, your work at Hopkins for brain damage and research was astounding! You should be there right now! You've given up three years of a fine paying job to care for Mordecai. Don't you think after two years, it would be time to let go?"

How dare he suggest such an idea! I reply sternly, "No, you listen! I refuse to abandon Mordecai, regardless of how long it takes! I don't care if it takes five years or fifty, Mordecai is not going to be treated like the other vegetables that you run at this _facility_! I will be damned to let him go! I know if I were in his shoes, he would do the same for me!"

"Rigby! Stop fighting with Benson, do you really want to get fired?" Mordecai calls as he looks us over.

I glare back at Benson before attending back to my friend. I say to him, "Hey, do you want to go to the coffee shop?"

His eyes lighten up, "Yeah! I hope Margaret's there!"

"I do too buddy, I do too. Come on, let's get you in the cart."

I help Mordecai as he lifts himself up from the bed. I pull over the depressingly grey wheelchair. With difficulty, I lift him into the chair. My biggest fear is his legs, which have been rendered paralyzed. Finally he gets situated in the "driver's seat" while I push from behind in the "passenger seat."

I leave the others in the room and take him down the halls. He gazes around.

I know I'm a doctor, but I can't help but wonder, how does he not see what I do? How does he pick this apart as a city or a job at some type of park? I'm looking right down a set of white hallways while he must be gazing at some type of city-scape. What is wrong with him that hides reality?!

I'm interrupted in my thoughts by his abrupt request, "Extreme carting?"

I smile, "Extreme carting!"

At once, I push him harder down the halls. I lift my feet onto the bar in the back. It feels like I'm a child again. We breeze down the hall, scaring every nurse and doctor we see. Some pedestrians dive out of the way.

We scream, "OHHHH!" in synchronized manner. Regardless of his mental deformity, I still feel and know that he is my best friend. These types of moments are what I come to work for.

Finally we arrive at the cafeteria. We come through the door. I can see we are not the only ones there. Some other "customers" with their handlers are there.

Usually, you would have to order your food from the food stations at the front of the cafeteria. However, I made the special request that our food _has_ to be brought to us. It has to fit his fantasy.

The two cafeteria workers, Margaret and Eileen, come over to us. Margaret is currently working as a part time employee working through college. To my memory, I think she is training to be a nurse. The same situation is apparent with Eileen.

"Hey Mordecai," Margaret states, forming a fake smile.

Mordecai's eyes gape open, "He-ey M-M-argaret."

His stuttering shows how he feels. It's obvious he likes her. She simply asks, "So what can I get you today?"

"Oh, I, uh, umm, I, uh,"

"I think a coffee for both of us."

She replies, "Coming right up."

I can view her annoyance as she walks away. I pity her. I never asked her to be involved. However, when Mordecai was finally stable after the accident, she was the one. Ever since he walked into here on the first day, Mordecai knew she was the one. At that point, I had no choice but to get her involved. Some days, she seems to enjoy Mordecai's company, but most days she can barely stand us. If only Mordecai saw reality.

"Oh man," Mordecai sighed as he rested his head in his arms.

"Why don't you ask her out?" I ask. I know this can never be a reality, but what more is there? It's all in the name of science.

"Ugghhh, I want to! But every time I talk to her its just word vomit."

"Just nut up and ask her out."

"Rigby!"

He punches me in the shoulder. Its not very effective, just a passive touch. However, that wouldn't help him. I simply play my part and pretend like it really hurts.

"So, why don't you ask out Eileen?"

I blush. "Come on man, I don't like her. You know that," I reply fiercely. I admit, the girl is physically attractive, but this love feels forced. He formed this couple with me and her. I don't even like her. Yet, his scenario keeps forcing us closer. I look over behind the lunch counter to see Eileen wave at me. Why am I the only one not amused with this?

Eventually, its back down the hall.

The rest of the day goes about as normal.

We cause trouble down the halls, to the annoyance of everyone else. I take him outside to the small garden to do some "work." It is generally helping him pick up some loose leaves across the ground. Of course, we slacked off quite a bit.

I would love to get Mordecai out of here. More than anything, I would absolutely adore the idea of being outside of this asylum of despair. I wish things were how they were before. We used to be closer than anything. We still are. However, it starts to seem one way. Maybe they are right. Maybe this is a lost cause after all.

Eventually, we make it back to his room and begin playing video games. Its always the retro stuff he likes. We set up the old game system and play "Dig Champs." Of course, a lenient game of punchies lands me as player two.

Usually, our day ends in some type of wacky adventure. He imagines monsters and Gods, ridiculous fantasies of things going wrong, even being so cool we have to go to court. What an imagination he has.

Not this day, though. Today will be about as regular as it can ever be.

While we play our digital game, I swear for a moment, I forget. Amidst our excitement and gaming, I completely forget where we are. I can somewhat see the walls around me shift. I swear I see the confines of a small living room. A coffee table sits in front of me with the gaming system. Behind me is the stairs which holds our bedroom further up.

Only if for a moment, I feel how he feels.

I forget. He does too.

Only when the game ends, do I come back to reality. I am tormented with the same confines of failure and lack of progress. I don't see any of his imaginings.

I see reality. Plain, cold, vicious reality.

I wish he could join me. It would make things less cruel. I am a doctor afterall. I should be used to people dying, lives being destroyed, being depended for everything. But this is where the world shows me its coolest flare.

I can't help but be angry.

Damn.

Damn!

One night of hard drinking was that was needed. I walked out without a scratch. I wish I could say the same for Mordecai. I can't help but feel that this is all my fault. I am the reason Mordecai is here. To the day I die, I swore I would find a cure.

Regardless of everything though, the screaming, the frustration, the seeming lack of sanity, I enjoy it. As much as it brings me pain, I feel joy.

This is still Mordecai.

Mordecai, my best friend in the whole world.

Every day is like a blessing. I thank God, if he exists, that Mordecai is at least alive. I feel like a kid with him. His imaginations are my escape to the world. Every day is a godsend.

Every day is my hope for him.

Eventually, it is time to send him to bed. I know it is only five, but he needs his sleep.

I help him from the wheelchair and lift him into his mattress.

He speaks to me, "You know... sometimes, it's not so bad. Some times its nice being down the rabbit hole."

I swear, I swear that split second, he knew...

Somewhere. Somewhere in the deepest depths of his mind, he knew where he was. He could see me for what I really am. I can see it in his eyes.

"M-Mordecai..."

He begins again, "We should get our sleep. I think I'll ask out Margaret tomorrow. Maybe. Goodnight Rigby."

I can't help the tears I am trying to restrain. He's not here anymore like I hoped.

I turn away as I begin to cry, "Goodnight, bro."

I turn the lights off and close the door.

I was so close. I was right there! Why didn't I say anything?! I should have helped him through it!

But he realized! For a second he realized! He knew what was going on! But... he likes staying there... he likes his rabbit hole...

I don't know if I can ever get him to change.

Some days, I wonder who the insane one really is.

Regardless, I can't give up.

Hold on Mordecai, I'm gonna fix this...

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**

This popped into my head one day. I had no choice but to write it down. I guess this is my own version of the Regular Show theory.

I just realized I am way too dark... Don't worry, I will write something cheerful after I finish CotE.

Anyway, this is helping me blow off steam for my other stories. I will get working on my new Chronicles of the Enchiridion chapter soon. If you don't know what that is, I'd recommend reading it.

By the way, thank you to everyone who has been supporting me on all of my other stories. I write with more confidence every day. I do not think I would still be at this stage in the game if it wasn't for all the help I've received. I'd like to shout out Jlyman, RegularShowFan1592, JessieLover, Ben10extreme, regulardude94, radredknuxfan, MetallicTaste, regularshowfan234, Bluemask of Skyclan, skittlesandlove, LegacyPen, and so many others I cannot even name. If I haven't I apologize. You guys rock!


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